


Blizzard

by Torched22



Category: Smallville
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Blow Jobs, Confessions, M/M, Snowed In, Thanksgiving, Trapped
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:34:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21552355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torched22/pseuds/Torched22
Summary: Clark gets caught at the Luthor mansion and can't leave due to a formidable blizzard. He finds himself in the lion's den, surrounded by Lex, Lionel and Lana. To say it's going to be a long night would be the understatement of the century.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Lex Luthor, Clark Kent/Lionel Luthor
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	Blizzard

"There's no way you can go out in this," Lana said, catching Clark's line of sight. He stood in Lex's study, the fire distantly illuminating his back. "She's right," Lionel echoed, "unless you want to freeze to death." 

Clark bit the inside of his cheek so hard that it might bleed. Lex was pouring himself another tumbler of whiskey and moving to sit on one of the sofas flanking the fireplace. It was Lex's fault that he was even here. Despite the farm giving its death rattles, the Luthor's had ordered five of Martha's pies for Thanksgiving. Clark was obligated to bring them by, come hell or high water, or apparently - blizzard. 

The snow was already two feet high when Clark made his way here, now it was three. And Lionel - the bastard, looked so smugly as he spoke the words - "unless you want to freeze to death" - even though he knew full well that Clark was indestructible. Clark remembered the day that Lionel found out his secret with sharp clarity. He had rigged that collapse, putting his own mother in mortal danger, just to check. Just to see. Selfish bastard.

Lex took a sip of his whiskey and looked up at Clark who's stolid face remained fixed and hardened. "I don't think I've seen you look that frustrated in a long time," he said suddenly, making Clark's green eyes snap to his. Clark swallowed and tried to school his expression back into submission. Lex just carried on... "I mean, I get it, you'd probably rather not be stuck here in the Luthor den, but we don't want to be stuck here either," he said, glare turned directly towards Lionel. "Present company isn't exactly preferred by any of us," he finished, taking another big swig of amber liquid. 

"Oh son, no need to be so hostile. Rather than familial bickering...we should focus on making our guest comfortable," he looked at Clark with a molten gaze. What was it about Lionel and Lex that was so...not unnerving...but...disarming. Like they could see right through to Clark's core. He felt naked. It wasn't a good feeling at the moment. Kent seriously considered just leaving. He shoved his hands into his pockets and sulked over to the rolling bar where the whiskey lived. His thoughts tumbled through various means of escape as he reached a hand out. It would be far too suspicious for him to pull one of his disappearing acts considering that his truck was snowed in. He could easily run home, but that would raise an undeniable amount of suspicion. He grasped the tumbler and began pouring himself a drink. 

"You don't drink Clark," Lana looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. 

"I do now," Clark poured himself a rather impressive amount and lifted the crystal to his lips. He downed the entire glass' contents at once. 

"You're wasting good whiskey there, Clark," Lionel came towards him. "It's meant to be savored, not downed." 

Clark just licked his lips. "Maybe I get pleasure out of knowing I'm wasting something of yours," Clark shot back, his mood too sour to hide. Lionel only grinned a sharktooth grin. 

"Actually, you're wasting something of Lex's."

"Even better," Clark just shrugged and poured himself more. Lex's eyes were wide with surprise.

It had been a long time since Clark had felt the brilliant, freeing effects of Red Kryptonite, but that part of him still remained - locked deep away in his chest. His mood was so poor that he couldn't help but let Kal out...just a little...just enough to finish the Luthor's whiskey and snap back snide remarks. It had been one of those weeks...or months...actually his entire year had been horrid. 

"So what's the plan?" Clark asked. "We just sit around until the storm dies down? What if it only gets worse?" Clark asked. It was good to ask typical - human-y - questions in times like these. He should feign some sort of low-level concern at the current circumstances, it only bolstered his "normal" facade.

"Well, the mansion has a back-up generator. We have more than enough food, especially since Thanksgiving is two days away. And we certainly have a guest room ready for you Clark," Lionel answered. 

"Great," Clark answered. "In that case, I think I'll take a shower, then read or something, and go to bed early. I reserve the right to eat some of my Mom's pies," he said, setting his crystal tumbler down with a loud clink. 

Lex stood. "I can show you to your room." 

"No thanks," Clark didn't even look over his shoulder as he headed for the study doors. "I'll figure it out. The blue room, right? That's the guest room?" 

"Yes." 

"Great," his large hand rested on the door handle. He didn't think to ask about toothbrushes or pajamas or clothes, he simply left the stifling room as quickly as humanly possible. One Luthor was bad enough - two was a challenge - three was a migraine on top of a root canal. That's what Lana was now - a Luthor. It made Clark's stomach churn. 

He trudged up the stairs and headed in the direction of the blue room that Lex had first shown him seven years ago when their friendship began and he got a tour of the mansion. 

The sour mood that had sprung to life at the realization he was trapped here only deepened. Perhaps a hot shower would remedy the foul cloud of dismay that hung around his aching head. Part of him was scared to death of this situation. Lionel knew too much. Lex didn't know anything and he wanted to keep it that way. And Lana...well, she was just the former love of Clark's life. Although, the more he examined his infatuation with her, the more hollow he realized it was. 

He found the blue room easily. It reminded him of...him. Could Lex have done that on purpose? Surely not. Leaving the bedroom door ajar, he made a b-line straight for the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. It was a large bathroom with marble countertops and an airy glass shower. Hell, Lex's guest bathroom was nicer than most Smallville houses. It was bigger than Clark's bedroom. For whatever reason, that thought made him kind of mad. 

He reached a long arm in and turned on the shower, unceremoniously stripping and leaving his clothes on the heated marbled floor. Everything about the mansion screamed, "luxury." Some parts of it felt like Lex, and others didn't. Clark wondered briefly if Lex truly felt at home in the mansion. Probably not. 

Clark stepped inside the glass enclosure and reveled in the warmth that hit his head and shoulders and cascaded down his body. He soaped himself up and could easily picture Lex in this space. His elegant fingers reaching for the soap, the soft sigh his mouth would make as his muscles relaxed under the spray. 

"Shit," Clark said aloud, realizing he was picturing his ex-best friend naked in the shower. He had tried very hard to tamp down any daydreams he might have about the bald billionaire and scolded himself anytime he found his mind wandering in a rated R direction, especially where Lex was concerned. 'It was hard enough being an alien, he didn't need to be a gay alien,' he reasoned (rather poorly). 

After thoroughly soaping himself up he heard a strangled noise, as if the metal pipes were straining. The water slowed, then became a trickle, then stopped. Clark swore aloud. The pipes must be frozen. 

Still covered in soap and half hard, he had no other choice than to leave the sanctuary of the shower. He hopped out and dragged his jeans on before angrily storming out of his room and down the hall. 

He had thought that Luthor clan was still in the study and he formulated a plan for using his heat vision to warm the pipes enough to work. What he didn't expect was having to meet the questioning glares of three Luthors as he came down the steps, still covered in water and soap. His pace slowed and embarrassment filled him to the brim with a beautiful blush as he came face to face with Lex, Lionel and Lana. He had no shirt or socks and his hair dripped frigid drops onto his naked chest. 

"Is there a problem?" Lionel asked.

"Yeah...uhh...there's no water. Well, there was, but I think the pipes froze and..."

"And you were going to run around the mansion half naked in an attempt to...do what?" Lex chimed in. His eyes were struggling to stay fixed to Clark's face and not move lower. 

"Well...I...thought I might see if there was a gallon of water in the kitchen...or if the kitchen sink pipes were working...I just need to wash the shampoo out of my hair." 

Lex finally allowed his gaze to wander to Clark's expansive chest, dripping on the hardwood floor. Apparently, Lionel was looking too. "You couldn't have at least toweled off first?" Lionel interjected.

"I'll find a towel in the kitchen," Clark said, awkwardly sliding past the trio and rushing towards the kitchen. 

"Shit. Shit. Shit," he muttered under his breath as he turned he corner and walked through the archway that opened to the massive kitchen. It was dark, save for a few soft lights that were left on. The Luthors had sent the staff home for the evening, knowing the storm was coming. And yet they couldn't have called Clark? Told him not to bring the pies? Unbelievable. 

Clark ran his hands through his hair and went to the sink. He turned it on and listened to the pipes wheeze and rattle. Not a lot of water came out of the faucet, but it was just enough to run through his hair to get the shampoo out. With the remaining dribbles, he wetted a paper towel and ran it over his chest to get the soap off. Luckily, his chest was all he'd managed to soap up. 

"Seems like you're having quite the night." 

Clark spun around and saw Lionel sauntering towards him. He balled up the paper towel he was using and walked to the middle of the kitchen, closer to the escape, but Lionel managed to trap him near the island. 

"I should have just gone home when I had the chance."

"You still do," Lionel said in that sly, knowing manner. "Although I'm sure it would raise some eyebrows." 

"Maybe it would be worth it - just to escape." 

"What exactly is it you're trying to escape?"

"You mean, aside from you?" 

"Oh come Clark...I'm not that bad." 

"Yeah...yeah you are." 

"No I'm not. If I was truly an asshole, I would have told Lex your secret by now." 

Neither Lionel nor Clark realized that there was a figure, shadowed in darkness, hidden in the wings listening. 

Clark's face heated and his heart thudded angrily in his chest. He was immobilized by panic. Should he threaten Lionel? Question him? Hit him? Run away? 

"It certainly would be a means of getting back into Lex's good graces..." he purred. 

"You wouldn't..."

Lionel stepped closer. "No, Clark, I wouldn't. But it was fun, seeing that flash of anger cross your face. It still looks as though you would love to punch me." 

The breath left Clark's lungs. "I want to be relieved, but I don't trust you as far as I could throw you." 

"You could actually throw me pretty damn far," Lionel laughed. He reached out a hand and put it on Clark's chest. Kent took in a deep, shaking breath. A beat of silence passed between them and Clark felt as though his breathing was too loud. 

"You're terrified of him knowing," Lionel said matter-of-factly. Clark just gulped. 

"Why is that? He already hates you." 

Clark's head lowered, his expression pained and falling. 

"I think I know why you don't want him to know." Clark's head snapped back up. The room felt too small, his skin felt too tight. "You're so afraid," Lionel continued. Clark's chest rose and fell with greater speed. "So afraid that he'll see you differently. You know he will." 

"You don't know what you're talking about," Clark tried, but the words sounded like a lie, even to his own ears. 

"Oh, I do. I see the way you look at him Clark." 

Kent let out an audible gasp. It felt like he was hyperventilating. 

"The *want* positively rolls off you in waves." 

Clark couldn't open his mouth. He couldn't deny it. He did want Lex. He wasn't even sure when it had happened. At fifteen, he began dreaming about Lex. About those cold gray eyes and that warm bright smile. He remembered breathing life into Lex and whenever he did - he grew hard. As the years passed, he tried to cling to Lana - to his feelings for her. But those feelings paled in comparison to the wily billionaire with the silver tongue. Luthor got under his skin in ways no one else ever had or could. Clark wanted to strangle him, punch him, kiss him, fuck him...

Panic was written boldly across Clark's face. Whatever false bravado he was feeling earlier, had thawed and melted and slipped away; and Lionel looked like a cat with a canary in its mouth. 

"If he knew your secret, well, he'd hate you even more. Right? I mean...he'll never return your feelings anyway. He married Lana. " 

A strangled noise came from the back of Clark's throat and he felt his eyes sting with their want to water. 

"Worked out well for you though - no one could tell that you were grieving the loss of Lex. Everyone thought you were heartbroken about losing Lana, but that wasn't it, was it?" 

Clark look pinned to the wall, and lost. 

"Admit it. I already know your biggest secret, what's this little one? You want Lex, don't you?"

Clark said nothing, just parted his lips and took a shaky breath. 

"Say it. Get it off your chest." 

Clark hung his head and bit his lip. 

"Yes, I want Lex," he muttered into his own chest. His voice sounded tired and weak and strangled.

Lionel just tilted his head, a look of pity on his face. His hand finally left Clark's chest and migrated to cup the side of his face. He stepped even closer, bringing his face close to Clark's. They were near the same height, Clark was just a few inches taller. "Do you think of him a lot? Still?" 

Clark's eyes closed, pain written all over his face and body language. 

"And now your stuck here, in his orbit. Just close enough to feel the heat and the pain. That's why you want to get the hell out of here," he surmised. "You can compartmentalize, you can keep busy, you can deny it most of the time. But not now. Not here." 

Lex's heart fell through his stomach as he listened, as he watched from the shadows. Clark wanted him? No. It wasn't possible. He was straight...he hated Lex...it...it...no...

"Were you thinking of him in the shower?" Lionel dragged his hand downwards, farther and farther. Clark made a wounded noise. It had been ages since he'd touched anyone. He hadn't slept with anyone since his Red K fueled summer in Metropolis. He never slept with Lana for fear of breaking her in half. He was hard, and Lionel was sure to notice. 

"Should I touch you Clark?" Lionel asked, stopping at his jeans, fingers playing with the denim lip. 

Clark breathed, or tried to. "It's Lex I...want...not...not you." 

"Oh, I know. I'm smarter than the average bear," Lionel purred. "I'm not the one you want...but you do see him when you look at me. Even if it's subtle. The twist of our lips is the same. The sharpness in our eyes. The smoothness of our hands. You see him in me - just a little - but it's there. And you know you can never have him. I'm the next best thing." 

Clark clenched his jaw and struggled. 

"I'm...I'm 21. You're...fifty? Why would you even want..." he trailed off.

"Because Clark, just like Lex, I'm attracted to power." he took his other hand and ran it through Clark's soft hair. 

It felt so good to be touched. In the past, it had taken Red K for Clark to come to terms with wanting a man's touch. But he did. He wanted it desperately. Lionel could surely smell the desperation on him. 

Unfortunately, Clark was stronger than denim. His erection pressed against those jeans and literally sent the button flying. He reached down, embarassed, and leaned back against the island. "Fuck." 

Lionel let out a moan. "It's nice to hear you swear." He just moved back into Clark's intimate space. His hand went to Clark's, which was covering his erection. He touched Clark's fingers. 

"How often do you jerk off, thinking about him?" 

"For god's sake Lionel, this is your son we're talking about...wh...how can you...?" 

"Answer the question Clark. What's your favorite fantasy of him? In the study? On his desk? In his Porsche? Or on the hood of it?" 

The last one is what sent Clark over the edge, he bowed his head and gripped the counter behind him. With his hand gone and his fly open, Lionel's hand was on his cock. He didn't have underwear on - his boxers were still on the marble floor upstairs. Clark groaned and his hips pushed forward on their own. Lionel grasped his erection and pulled it free of the denim. For a human, the scrape of zipper teeth against a hard cock would be unbearable. Clark only reveled in it, he wanted more. 

He thought briefly of how obscene he must look. Hands behind him, gripping the countertop, cock jutting out of his open jeans. His lips were parted, eyes dark and hooded, chest and cheeks flushed red with embarrassment and arousal. 

"You're beautiful Clark. It's Lex's loss. Look at this long, thick cock, weeping from it's cherry red head." 

"Lionel..." he squeaked. "You're - you're not Lex. You could never be a - a substitute for Lex." 

"Maybe not. But I think you miss having a man's hands on you." 

Clark gasped and gave a nod without even realizing it. "Have you fucked men before Clark? Did you penetrate or did they penetrate you?" 

Clark's hips jerked forward and Lionel began stroking him. "I - I was on - the - bottom." 

Lionel made a heady sound and picked up the pace. "Because you were afraid you'd hurt them if you were on top?" 

"Yeah - yes." 

Lionel stopped suddenly and took his hand away. Clark took a huge breath in. Relieved. But it didn't last long. Lionel was getting on his knees and pulling Clark's jeans down mid-thigh to expose his balls. The cold air hit him like a freight train and he tightened his grip on the counter. 

"You're. Not. Lex." 

"No, but you know he doesn't want you. He'll never let you have him. He hates you. And if he knew more, he'd hate you even more." 

Clark tried to stay calm, but a sad sound was ripped from him. It sounded almost like a sob. 

"He'll never return your feelings. He'll never be on his knees, mouth open and waiting for your cock." 

Another hiccuped sob. 

"You get to watch Lana have him and you're left with nothing. No one. Drowning beneath the weight of your secrets. As if your biggest secret wasn't bad enough, there's no one you can turn to and talk about that ache you have. The way your body itches for a man's touch." 

Clark moved his hips forward so slightly, barely perceptible, but Lionel saw it. He craned his head and took Clark's cock into his mouth. He sucked him a few times and dug his fingers into Kent's ass. Lionel pulled off just long enough to speak. "I bet you picture Lex's scarred mouth stretched around you." 

"Yes...fuck..." Clark stammered. 

"Do you call out his name when you come?" 

Clark's hand squeezed too hard and a chunk of counter broke and crumbled in his hands. Lionel just smiled and continued his work. Clark was big, bigger than big, and he could barely get half of him in his mouth, but Clark wasn't complaining. 

"Teeth. Use them. Please..." 

Lionel hummed around Clark and began using his teeth. Clark's head lulled back. It was so nice to be able to...to ask for something like that. To not have to hide. Lionel knew he wasn't human and that was so...so fucking freeing. 

Lex couldn't even believe what was happening. He pinched himself, asked himself if he'd taken a hallucinogenic, but he wasn't dreaming - he wasn't high. Clark was naked, in his kitchen, being blown by Lionel. And worst of all, Lex was hard as a rock, close to coming in his pants. His father - twisted bastard - used his own son to arouse Clark. If he hadn't been present for the context, he'd be furious at Clark. Betrayed. But Clark kept saying over and over again that he wanted Lex. It was obvious though, he needed relief. And Lionel was acting as some sort of substitute. 

Lex felt like a sick bastard, putting his hand on his clothed erection to relieve some of the pressure. He couldn't handle the sight before him...Clark writhing and moaning, his large cock jutting out and glistening. A cock that he wanted to put inside of Lex. Or...or have Lex inside of him. Lex gulped and felt something inside of him snap. He'd only married Lana to have something of Clark's - to get closer to the young man. It was never even about her. And it had hurt Clark. A lot. He should have felt satisfied, but he only felt ashamed. Clark deserved a mind-blowing orgasm, to say the least. And his father...his father deserved to die for ever getting the privilege of seeing this, of doing this, of touching and tasting his - Clark. 

Lionel pulled away and Clark cried out at the loss. 

"Have you ever come down someone's throat? Is this going to blow a hole through my head?" Lionel smiled. 

Clark was horrified, not at the words, but at the jolt of arousal they caused. 

"I - I come normally. A man...did this for me...once...he was...fine."

"Good," Lionel smirked. "It sure would be hard for you to explain a cock sized hole through my throat." 

Clark took a very stuttered breath. 

Lionel reached out and pulled on Clark's balls - hard. Clark only shivered in delight. He bit at Clark's balls next as he stroked him. 

"P-please...I need -" 

"What? To be filled by Lex's cock?" 

Clark's cock twitched and Lionel re-affixed his mouth just in time for Clark to come. Hand sized pieces of the countertop fell to the floor in a crumble as Clark pulsed down Lionel's throat. 'The bastard. The fucking bastard,' he thought. Pleasure ripped through him at Lionel's roughness. He liked this. He liked it and it made him feel dirty. He came for a long time and Lionel kept swallowing and swallowing until there was nothing left. He pulled off with a pop and stood up. 

Lionel was hard. 

"I -- I shouldn't suck you off," Clark said suddenly. 

"I know," Lionel said. "I can see the guilt building in you like a cresting wave. But you shouldn't feel guilty Clark. You couldn't have what you wanted so you had the next best thing." 

"I feel like I cheated on Lex or something," he muttered, red staining his cheeks.

"You didn't." Lionel ran a hand through his hair and pulled him in for a hug. Tears ran down Clark's face. "You're hurting. You need the relief of someone who knows your secrets, who reminds you of Lex, and you got it. Hopefully, it'll take the edge off your attitude and you can get through this - staying here." 

"You play it off like you're helping me - but you're just manipulating me," Clark said, pulling away. 

"Does it not feel like a weight is lifted off your chest? Telling me how you feel about Lex? How you feel about men?" 

He nodded sadly. "Still...I...I can't touch you...there...I'm sorry." 

"It's because you want to that you won't...am I right?" 

Clark sharply inhaled and pulled up his jeans. 

"You hate yourself for wanting to."

"Yes," Clark said, moving past Lionel. 

Lex stayed close to the dark wall, and tried to quiet his furious breathing. He had come when Clark did, and his pants were sticky and wet. He wanted to murder his father. He wanted to slap Clark. He wanted to fuck Clark. He felt years of repressed desire come rearing its head with a vengeance. 

How dare Lionel touch Clark. How dare he taste him. How dare he manipulate him. And greatest of all - how dare he know Clark's secret. Although - seeing the crumbled granite counter, and hearing him ask for the scrape of teeth against his rigid cock - Lex could take a guess at Clark's powers. 

He felt like screaming and crying and getting his Glock and pressing Clark against the hood of his car and fucking him into oblivion. He wanted to torture Lionel and maybe even Clark. 

Sadness and anger and fury and regret and lust and confusion all swirled in his chest until it felt like a heart attack. Lex Luthor wanted to scream. 

Clark was gone and Lionel waited, stroking himself through his pants, before leaving himself.


End file.
